Hey guys, I just want to inform you that this will be the last update for a while because I will be away from a computer for a few weeks and won't be able to update. However, I'll still be writing new chapters, so hopefully I'll have a few ready to upload when I get back. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Also, in regards to some questions concerning who will take over Toshiro's position, I will only say that it will not be an OC.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

Toshiro fell back on the bed, frowning.

After agreeing to Masaki and Captain Shiba's (Call me Isshin, Shiro! I'm no longer the captain!) preposition and going over some details, he had decided to retire for the night. The two of them were gracious enough to provide him a bedroom upstairs. Toshiro could still hear them walking about, the captain's (Isshin's) footsteps noticeably deeper than Masaki's. Toshiro turned away from the door, laying his head on a slightly wrinkled pillow that most likely hadn't seen the light of day for a few months. The only people who seemed to constantly live here was the couple.

And now himself, his mind provided.

Toshiro was still trying to wrap his head around the recent developments. Once he managed to get some fake identification from Urahara, he would officially be the adopted son of Masaki and Isshin Kurosaki. He came from Masaki's side and was her nephew whose parents had recently passed away. The couple decided to raise him as their own. Due to his lingering grief (and own reservations) it was decided that he would keep his last name.

Toshiro didn't think he would be able to live with being Toshiro Kurosaki.

It wasn't anything against the couple, he firmly reminded himself. He just didn't want to change his name. After essentially giving up everything that he had ever known, his name was the last thing that he had left. His mind once again drifted towards Momo. What would she do when she realized that he wasn't returning? In the beginning of his life, it was only him, Momo, and his grandmother. After becoming Shinigami, it was them against the world, despite them being in different divisions. Now she would be all alone due to his inability to leave things alone. Toshiro knew that staying away was the only way she would be safe, but that didn't make it easier. He would miss her.

Grabbing the pillow beneath his head and hugging it against his body, he closed his eyes. He had to continue moving forward, he reminded himself. By sticking around Masaki and…Isshin, he could find out more about the traitor Shinigami. And once he did, he could put an end to him and return to Soul Society. To Momo. Yes, he had to move forward.

Tomorrow was a new day.


"Pass me that spoon, would you?"

Toshiro reached over the stovetop to grab the stirring spoon. Careful not to get hit by any spitting grease, he gave the spoon to Masaki, returning to cutting lettuce afterwards. It had been three weeks since he had started living at the Kurosaki household, and life had been…dull. Isshin worked most of the day at a building connected to the house, a clinic he had founded. Toshiro remembered how confused he was when he realized Isshin's profession. Back in Soul Society, the man could barely take care of himself. That was Toshiro's job since Matsumoto could be trusted with nothing. The thought that Isshin was in charge of saving lives seemed very ironic.

He wondered how many degrees Urahara had to fake to get him licensed.

Toshiro's main job was to make sure that Masaki had help with maintaining the house. Her pregnancy had made it difficult to move about and reach for things, so Toshiro was her hands. Masaki was adamant that he didn't need to do everything for her, just help with the little things, but he disagreed. It was the least he could do for letting him stay here.

"How are the beans going?" he asked, eyeing the concoction. The woman almost exclusively made bean dishes now, throwing in whatever food that she craved at that moment. It was around lunchtime and Toshiro was sure that she had snuck in some diced pickles disguised as cucumbers. It was a good thing that he had stocked up on salad materials. There was much to be said about the Human World, but what couldn't be said was that the food was bad.

"I think they're almost ready," she replied, picking up a bean with the spoon and testing how sturdy it was. Deeming them satisfactory, she put her hands in oven mitts and picked up the pot, pouring the beans in the strainer. While Masaki finished with the beans, Toshiro put his lettuce in a bowl and added tomatoes and croutons. He had grown to enjoy the crunchy pieces of bread.

The two of them went to the dining room with their respective dishes, Toshiro arriving first so that he could pull out Masaki's chair for her. At this she laughed. "Thank you, Toshiro," she said, making a point of not using his detested nickname, "how domestic."

Toshiro lightly blushed. He just didn't want her to struggle with the chair. Her stomach had rounded out even more from when he first saw her, and that sometimes made it harder for her to sit down. He was only doing the right thing.

"If it's alright to ask," Toshiro started, seeing Masaki's nod of approval, "how far along are you?"

Masaki smiled. "I'm around nine months, so the baby will be here soon," she replied, absently resting her hand on her stomach. Toshiro nodded. He had expected the baby to arrive soon, as for the past week its reiastu had been skyrocketing, fluctuating. It almost seemed as if the baby was voicing its desire to be born. Toshiro wondered what part of the child it was.

"Do you know what gender it will be?" he continued his line of questioning.

"We actually want to be surprised," Masaki responded, "That's why the baby's room isn't painted blue or pink."

"Well, do you know what you're going to name him or her?" Toshiro said, his last question.

Masaki beamed proudly. "I know exactly what I'm going to name him if he's a boy!" she declared. Toshiro waited for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he tried to get her to talk. "And?" he prompted.

If anything, Masaki's proud smile got even wider. Reaching over, she ruffled his hair, knowing that it would distract him from the line of questioning. "It's a surprise, Shiro!" she said, adding his nickname to ensure he was adequately distracted, "If I told you, then it would lose its specialness!"

Toshiro leaned back away from Masaki's hand. Already knowing what she was trying to do, he decided to let the matter drop, turning to his salad. If she didn't want to tell him, that was fine. He'd find out eventually.

The kid had to be born sometime.


Toshiro was woken up by a deep release of reiastu.

Immediately knowing it was the child's, he got out of bed and sprinted down the stairs, guessing that the big moment had come. Reaching the front door, he could see Isshin helping Masaki into the car. Although a "certified" medic, he had no knowledge of how to deliver babies, and was therefore taking Masaki to a hospital. Putting Masaki's other arm over his shoulder, Toshiro exchanged a nod with Isshin before taking all of her weight so that he could start the car.

After helping to buckle Masaki in, Toshiro got into the other side and strapped himself in. Looking over at Masaki, Toshiro could see how much pain she was in. Remembering from a pregnancy book Isshin had forced him to read, he held out his hand so that she could grip it. Getting a weak smile in return, Masaki grabbed Toshiro's hand and squeezed.

Toshiro would forever deny that he squeaked when she crushed his fingers.

Valiantly ignoring the way his hand was turning purple, he waited for them to arrive at the hospital. It wasn't that far from where they lived as a lot of the time Isshin's patients were referred to him from the hospital. It was only around three blocks away.

Hearing a groan from Masaki, Toshiro quickly looked away so that he wouldn't see his fingers change from purple to a deep blue. His sigh of relief mixed with her groaning when they arrived at the hospital. Slowly (quickly) retracting his hand from hers, he got out of the car so that he could alert the hospital while Isshin helped Masaki in. The nurses had the wheelchair ready by the time they got inside, Toshiro anxiously waiting next to the nurses. As they transferred Masaki to the wheelchair, Isshin reached out and touched Toshiro's shoulder. He smiled.

"Don't worry, Shiro. They'll take good care of her," Isshin said quietly. Toshiro nodded. He wasn't worried, he assured himself as he went to sit in the waiting room, Isshin leaving to follow Masaki. He wasn't.

He was.


Toshiro waited for four hours before he was allowed into Masaki's room. At first when no one came to retrieve him he had assumed that something had gone terribly wrong. It was only after a grandmother whose daughter was giving birth for the second time had told him that many women took a long time to give birth did he calm down.

When Isshin came out to get him, Toshiro immediately knew that everything was alright. His eyes were alight with happiness and glee, and he quickly grabbed Toshiro so that he could come see Masaki. It seemed as if just being away from her was too much for the happy father.

Arriving at the door, Toshiro steeled himself. This baby would change everything. It would be one more life to protect, one more life to fail should he be unable to complete his duty. Pushing the door open, Toshiro's eyes were immediately drawn to the bundle held in Masaki's hands. She looked tired but pleased as she moved the blanket away from the baby's face, revealing a pudgy face with a tuft of orange hair.

"I would like to introduce you to our baby boy," Masaki said, idly running her fingers over the boy's strands of hair, "Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ichigo, Toshiro thought. To Protect.

Masaki was right.

It was a special name.